Author: Scott Mannion

When Samson set my brush afire To spoil the Timnite's barley, I made my point for Leicestershire And left Philistia early. Through Gath and Rankesborough Gorse I fled, And took the Coplow Road, sir ! And was a gentleman in Red When all the Quorn wore woad, sir ! When Rome lay massed on Hadrian's Wall, And nothing much was doing, Her bored Centurions heard my call O' nights when I went wooing. They raised a pack - they ran it well (For I was there to run 'em) From Aesica to Carter Fell, And down North Tyne to Hunnum. When William landed hot for blood, And Harold's hosts were smitten, I lay at earth in Battle Wood While Domesday Book was written. Whatever harm he did to man, I owe him pure affection; For in his righteous reign began The first of Game Protection. When Charles, my namesake, lost his mask, And Oliver dropped his'n, I found those Northern Squires a task, To keep 'em out of prison. In boots as big as milking-pails, With holsters on the pommel, They chevied me across the Dales Instead of fighting Cromwell. When thrifty Walpole took the helm, And hedging came in fashion, The March of Progress gave my realm Enclosure and Plantation. 'Twas then, to soothe their discontent, I showed each pounded Master, However fast the Commons went, I went a little faster ! When Pigg and Jorrocks held the stage And Steam had linked the Shires, 1 broke the staid Victorian age To posts, and rails, and wires. Then fifty mile was none too far To go by train to cover, Till some dam' sutler pupped a car, And decent sport was over ! When men grew shy of hunting stag, For fear the Law might try 'em, The Car put up an average bag Of twenty dead per diem. Then every road was made a rink For Coroners to sit on; And so began, in skid and stink, The real blood-sport of Britain !... Associate Producer Membership Required You must be a Associate Producer member to access this content.Join NowAlready a member? Log in here

GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT FOXHUNTING READING After Mass of a morsel he and his men partook.Merry was the morning. For his mount then he called.All the huntsmen that on horse behind him should followwere ready mounted to ride arrayed at the gates.Wondrous fair were the fields, for the frost clung there ;in red rose-hued o’er the wrack arises the sun,sailing clear along the coasts of the cloudy heavens.The hunters loosed hounds by a holt-border ;the rocks rang i n the wood to the roar of their horm.Some fell on the line to where the fox was lying,crossing and re-crossing it in the cunning oftheir craft.A hound then gives tongue, the huntsman names him,round him press his companions in a pack all snufing,running forth in a rabble then right in his path. The fox flits before them. They find him at once,and when they sec him by sight they pursue him hotly,decrying him fuJI clearly with a clamour ofwrath.He dodges and ever doubles through many a dense coppice,and looping oft he lurks and listens under fences.At last at a little ditch he leaps o’er a thorn-hedge,sneaks out secretly by the side of a thicket,weens he is out of the wood and away by his wiles from the hounds.  Thus he went unawares to a watch that was posted,where fierce on him fell three foes at onceall grey. He swerves then swift again, and dauntless darts astray ;  in grief and in great pain to the wood he turns away.Then to hark to the hounds it was heart’s delight,when all the pack came upon him, there pressing together.  Such a curse at the view they called down on rum  that the clustering clills might ha\’e clauered in ruin.  Here he was hallooed when hunters came on him,  yonder was he assailed with snarling tongues ;there he was threatened and oft thief was he called,with ever the trailers at his tail so that tarry he could not.  Oft was he run at, if he rushed outwards;  oft he swerved in again, so subtle was Reynard.Yea I he led the lord and his hunt as laggards behind himthus by mount and by hill till mid-afternoon. At last the fox he has felled that he followed so long ;for, he spurred through a spinney to espy there the villain,  where the hounds he had heard that hard on him pressed,  Reynard on his road came through a rough thicket,  and all the rabble in a rush were right on his heels.The man is aware of the wild thing, and watchful awaits him,  brings out his bright brand and at the beast hurls it ;and he blenched at the blade, and would have backed if he could.  A hound hastened up, and had him ere he could ;and right before the horse’s feet they fell on him all,and worried there the wily one with a wild clamour.The lord quickly alights and lifts him at once,snatching him swiftly from their slavering mouths,holds him high o’er his head, hallooing loudly;and there bay at him fiercely many furious hounds.Huntsmen hurried thither, with horns full manyever sounding the assembly, till they saw the master.When together had come his company noble,all that ever bore bugle were blowing at once,and all the others hallooed that had not a horn :it was the merriest music that ever men harkened,the resounding song there raised that for Reynard’s soul  awoke. To hounds they pay their fees, their heads they fondly stroke,  and Reynard then they seize, and off they skin his cloak.  And then homeward they hastened, for at hand was now night,  making strong music on their mighty horns. ... Associate Producer Membership Required You must be a Associate Producer member to access this content.Join NowAlready a member? Log in here